The Moon and the Marauders
by Bucky0o
Summary: Hogwarts through the eyes of Remus Lupin as he grows up- witnessing romance, pain, and all new experiences.
1. Werewolf's Lament

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, etc.**

The ink smeared on his brow didn't do much to improve his appearance, he was sure. The sandy-haired second year rubbed his hand over the smudge in another quick attempt at removing it, but all he could manage to do was make it worse. He sighed, feeling cold dread settle into his stomach. The year was already starting badly. What could happen next? A quick breath of the smoky tasting air helped to clear his head, and he stepped off of the boarding station 9 ¾ to stumble onto the Hogwarts Express.

Remus Lupin quickened his pace as he hurried to find a seat- one that was as lonely and desolate as he could find. As much as he wanted to make friends, he knew the risk he would put them in was too much. Finally, he settled into a compartment that's small window was dusty and dull, allowing only a few rays of light to filter through, reflecting in his eyes. James, Sirius, and Peter had no idea what they spent their time with, and he knew that when- _if_ they found out, they wouldn't want to be friends with him anymore. Of that he was sure. He glared at his hands as if to dare them to morph.

A voice from his right startled him into looking up. "There you are, Remus! We've been looking all over for you!" James Potter stared down at him, a grin dancing along the edges of his mouth. Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew stood next to him, their black wizarding clothes blending against the doorway.

"You already… changed?" He asked, hesitating before the last word. That was the word his mother and father used to address his monthly problem.

The boys let out easy laughs and sunk into the seats around him. "My mum wouldn't let me go out in muggle clothes anyway, but these two did," Sirius told him, eyeing the grey tee shirt and shorts Remus had donned.

"Oh, er, right, 'course." He replied, trying to shake off his uneasy feelings. The full moon would be out that night, he knew, and tried to ease himself with the knowledge that he couldn't change without it. The others didn't seem to notice his weariness and began to discuss the possibility of sneaking out to Hogsmeade.

"I'd bet we'd be the only second years to do it," James began, a smile beginning to creep onto his angular face at the thought of being the first second year to achieve something so clever. "But how?"  
>Sirius and Peter's brows crinkled as they thought. "There has to be a secret passage somewhere," Sirius added in, rubbing his chin.<p>

"Maybe in the dungeons?" Peter suggested, his small, watery eyes squinting as if to see into the secrets of Hogwarts. The train unexpectedly rocked a little on the track, sending Peter sprawling onto Remus. Remus flinched and pushed him off onto Sirius.

"No, not there, we've checked," Sirius growled as he slid away from Peter and helped him right himself.

Peter sat up shakily. "What about… The whomping willow?" His squeaky voice quivered in expectation.

A silent pause came over the boys. Remus, frozen in horror, quickly scrambled for a counter-idea. That was the place he shape-shifted! If they went on the wrong day… endless nightmares chased themselves in circles in his mind.

"It's true, we haven't checked there. And that tree _has _to be there for some reason, it's not like the school would put a dangerous thing on the premises for nothing," James reasoned, his fingers sliding through his messy black hair as he pondered the idea.

Remus balked. "But it's dangerous! I mean- that tree could seriously injure someone. And what if we did get hurt? What would the story be?" He brought up, sounding ridiculous to his own ears. His friends wouldn't buy it.

Sirius and James raised an eyebrow simultaneously at him. "Why so interested, Remy? You don't normally get involved with these ideas," Sirius pointed out, dark eyes looking curiously at him.

Remus, about to answer, burst into a fit of coughing; his frail body shaking as each one hit him. He hated how fragile he was on these days, the days the moon came out and lurked behind his thoughts.

James and Sirius patted his back at first roughly and then gently as the coughs slowed, chuckling when Remus tried to speak. He wasn't fooled by their laughter; he could see the concern they tried to hide deep in their faces. Finally, in order to escape from any questions, Remus stood and went to change into his school robes. He could hear creeping whispers of curiosity from behind him, wonderments of his strange behavior. Huffing with exhaustion and worry, he found a small room to change and pulled his shirt over his head, glaring down at his pale skin with wolves in mind.

… … … … … … …

Albus Dumbledore slid his half-moon glasses up his long, crooked nose, staring down at the crowd of students with electric blue eyes. Remus looked back at him, nerves tickling his stomach as he glanced nervously at the muggle watch ticking on his wrist. 7:00 p.m., he read. Very soon he'd be the stuff of nightmares, howling at the roof of the shrieking shack with an unnecessary need for vengeance and death.

He couldn't touch his food- which was normal, on those 'special' days, and faint nausea clawed at his body as he watched James, Sirius, and Peter shove serving after serving of roast turkey, rice pudding, and vegetables into their mouths.

He stood, trying to look small and unimportant, and began to head to the back of the Great Hall. Him and Dumbledore had already discussed how the transformation would work: he would slip away from dinner discreetly and unnoticed, travel to the whomping willow, and duck under its cover until the transformation was completed. After that, he would either wake up with Madam Pomfrey staring down at him or alone, blinking drearily up at the shrieking shack with strange cuts and scratches raking down his limbs.

A hand stopped his progress. So much for unnoticed, Remus thought, as he turned and found his friends watching him quizzically.

"Where're you going?" Sirius asked him, a gleam sparkling in his dark eyes.

"To Madam Pomfrey. I'm not feeling well," Remus told him, the practiced lie rolling of his tongue easily. He hated lying to his friends- they were the only people he could turn to when it came to normal problems. He pulled away from Sirius's grasp and left the hall, ignoring the exchange of glances between the three boys behind him.

The cool air of the outside was a welcome change as it brushed against his face and skin. It was dark- almost so dark he couldn't see, but just light enough he could make out the scraggly silhouette of a tree that seemed to be snapping its branch at a wandering bird. Quickening his steps and tightening his shabby robes around his shoulders, he made his way to the strange plant. Sometimes the willow didn't try to get a whack at him- either it recognized him or was too lazy to be bothered (although Remus had never seen the tree be too lazy to protect the hole beneath it to other students), but sometimes it didn't, taking biting swipes at him as he attempted to scramble into it's hidden tunnels. Today was a slow day for the tree, because all it did was rustle its leaves at him as he cautiously approached. Frowning with slight anxiety, he ducked beneath the thick branches and slipped onto his back to slide into the covered hole. His mind briefly touched on the responsibility that came with getting his robes dirty, but he quickly dismissed it with the thoughts that the clothing would most likely get torn up anyway.

He crept silently into the shrieking shack, sliding off his outer layer of clothing to let it pool out on the ground. Feeling hushed, he knelt down, sitting down on the creaky, wooden paneling, closing his eyes as a sob threatened to tear through him. He hated his life. Hated it with every part of him, except maybe the parts that involved laughing with James, Sirius, and Peter, when he forget what he was and the horrible things he might do.

He let his fingers trail on the grainy texture of the floor, peaking his eyes open to let the dim, dull lighting filter through. A spasm ricocheted in his hands, a moan escaping his lips as his bones cracked and the transformation began.


	2. Moon's Delight

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters.

Let me know what you think of the story! Should I continue? I'm trying to capture Remus's perspective, and could use any feedback or ideas you have to give me.

…. …. …. …. ….

The transformations back then were always the worst.

His hands hit the splintered wood and his nails curved into points as a bone cracking sensation spread through his entire body. It was if someone was stepping on him, snapping his bones with the ease of a rabid lion, and then twisting his body like a doll. He bit his lip and immediately regretted it- canines like curved daggers speared through his mouth, sending his own blood dripping down his chin and to the floor. His legs buckled and shook, his feet curving inward- farther, farther, until there was nothing left but roughly shaped paws. He cried out as fur split his skin like needles would- and suddenly he was itchy, so itchy he couldn't help but rake his clawed nails against his arms and legs despite the damage he knew it was causing. He didn't know if he was screaming or not- there was a loud roaring in his ears as they turned and pointed, shifting this way and that as the world twisted underneath his sight. His eyes, once the only part of him that didn't hurt, began to spread apart, tearing open his skin as his nose and mouth lengthened into a snout. He snapped, yelped, and growled as a tail split between his legs, feeling like someone was drilling his back with a dragon's horn. And then, randomly, the pain ceased, as though the transformation had just been a cruel joke that someone played and now regretted. Remus took a quick, panted breath, before the most startling crack of all echoed and shook his body. His spine- the biggest part of him that hadn't changed, broke at the end, shortening and turning until he could no longer sit, but lay on the ground whimpering for the end and tasting blood on his lips, tongue, and throat. _My blood_, he assured himself. _Not my friends, not my family_, his thoughts twisted away from his human relationships and down a darker path, touched by a deep madness that came with the full moon. As he stood, slowly, carefully, his brain clicked- the final change. With a mad howl, he threw himself at the walls screaming for flesh and death.

… … … … … … … …

When his eyes finally opened, he was lying in a pool of his own blood. _In the Shrieking Shack_, he realized, pushing himself onto his elbows. The action hurt, but he was so used to the process he could ignore whatever came with it. A terrible hunger clawed its way through his stomach- he hadn't eaten in at least a day. Tenderly, he sat up and closed his eyes, trying to shut out the dizziness that had come over him. As it passed, he noticed that the over robes he'd left in the corner appeared untouched, causing a momentary flare of pride to swell in his belly. Maybe he _could_ learn to control himself- he pondered the idea, before reflecting on the many books he'd combed through that told him the lack of control would last a lifetime. Sighing, he crawled over to carefully pull a robe over himself, tears coming to his eyes as his long, stinging cuts came in contact with the cloth. The pale light sneaking into the room told him it was barely morning, meaning he might be able to sneak into the hospital wing without anyone seeing him. He hated it when Madam Pomfrey had to come get him- he was ashamed of what he was, from how he slept, bare as the day he was born, in his own blood, to his very core.

Carefully, he stood up to face the doorway and leaned against the frame as the world slanted beneath him. Shaking himself, his light eyes searched through the dark corridor until he could make out a way to leave. He wandered towards it, feeling the rough texture of the walls beneath his fingers and wishing he could join them and never leave. A darting shadow caught his eye. His heart raced. If someone saw him like this…

"Mr. Lupin, is that you?" It was Madam Pomfrey's voice, sounding maternal and worried at the same time. He tried to call back, but his voice came out rough, like a bark.

He could see her form and features now, and watched as recognition lit in her face upon looking at him.

"Rough night, dear?" She asked him, gently taking his arm and leading him out of the Whomping Willow. "We'll get you all fixed up, now." He coughed, trying to look as attentive and trusting as he could manage, and tasted bile in his mouth. Letting out a rushed breath, he watched the ground turn and do somersaults in his vision, and closed his eyes.

… … … … … …

When he woke up again, it was not to what he had expected.

"Remus? Are you okay?" Lily Evans was looking down at him, her brilliantly green almond-shaped eyes wide with surprise. He stared at her for a moment, struggling to process what she had said.

"Oh.. er, yeah. I, er, wasn't feeling well," he told her, sounding uncertain and stupid in his own ears. He had always like Lily. Not more than friends (after all, he was only twelve), but he found her to be intelligent, sympathetic, and someone he could easily talk to. He knew enough about her (James seemed to take a particular interest her, bring her up at odd, random moments), enough that he knew her to be a truly good person at heart.

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," she sat at the edge of his stiff, white hospital bed. "Too bad, this being the first week of school and all." Her voice was light, young, and very innocent. She brushed her hair over her shoulder with a hand, exposing a fresh pulse beating in her neck. Remus looked away, guilt flooding his body. If he had seen her like that just a few hours ago… a shudder trembled up his fingers.

Lily didn't seem to notice his train of thought. "Alright, I'd better get going now. I was just stopping by here to ask for some ingredients for Professor Slughorn- he'll be wondering where I am," She stood up, the bed shifting without her weight. "Feel better!" She said, smiling, and disappeared out of the room.

Remus stared after her. What would it be like- to not have the burden of being a… a… _werewolf._ The word burned in his mind.

He slowly stood, pulling off the blanket that covered his soiled, bloody clothing, and rolled off the bed. With the intent to get different clothes to change into, he began to walk towards Madam Pomfrey's office, only to find himself face to face with a rushed looking James Potter and Sirius Black. James, being closest to him, stared at his robes.

The words that came next were like poison in Remus's ears.

"Is that.. blood?"


	3. Of Nosebleeds and Secrets

Disclaimer: I do not own any of this (sadly).

…..

"Nosebleed." The word came out of Remus's mouth faster than he could blink- so fast it was clearly a lie. "I just… I had a nosebleed," he repeated now, conscious of the speed he spoke.

James looked him up and down, eyes sparkling mischievously. "Yeah, and I'm a Slytherin."

Sirius grinned from behind James, his doggish dark stare a sure indicator of where the conversation was going. "We know you didn't have a nosebleed, Remus," the black haired boy told him, clearly reveling in the face of his own cleverness.

Horror bloomed in Remus's stomach, clawing its way up to his heart and throat. He wanted to run, to make up an excuse, to do _anything_ that would help him escape the words he had been dreading the very moment he first bayed to the moon like the beast within him. Words flooded his mouth but came out like croaks- he knew he was cornered, and there was no escaping what was going to happen. He braced himself for the accusations and anger he was sure to come.

"Okay, so I didn't… have a nosebleed," Remus muttered, his pale eyes seeking the solidity of the ground.

A hand touched his shoulder. "We know you leave every month because of some illness or your mother being sick," James began, his tone turning gentle.

"But we also know you leave on the full moon," an eager Peter chimed in, his voice noticeably higher than the other boys'. Remus's finger spasmed in time with the phrase 'full moon.'

"So," Sirius finished, "we put the dots together. You, seeming ill and in a rather off mood, go to the hospital wing on the night of the full moon with the excuse you or a family member are sick. Then you come back a day or two later, in a much better mood and seeming well enough. So we decided we'd come early in the morning after the full moon to see what happens to you. And sure enough, here you are, all slathered up in blood. We know what you are, mate," Sirius told him, meeting Remus's fearful look with a masked one.

Panic fluttered against Remus's abdomen. _This is it. The moment I was too stupid to realize was coming._

"I'm sorry." He muttered, shoulders slumping under defeat, his gaze sliding back the floor with his inability to meet his friends' eyes. "If you don't want to… to be near me… I don't blame you." His voice quivered with rising emotion.

Confusion spread like a ripple over the marauders. They balked at him.

"Don't be bloody sorry!" James began, sounding loud next to the absolute silence of the hospital wing. "Just because you're a werewolf doesn't mean we don't want to be friends!"

Remus looked up, surprised.

"If anything, mate, it makes you that much cooler," Sirius told him, grinning and laughing at Remus's reaction.

Peter smiled up at him nervously. He, of all the boys, seemed to be the only one not so sure about the apparent goodness of Remus's problem.

"You... You still want to be friends?" Hope in spite of what Remus had always believed warmed his toes. "Even with my... er… situation?" He couldn't believe it.

James slapped him on the back. "Of course! Why not? Although I am curious as to why you're all covered in blood," James told him, eyes tracing the soiled robes draped over Remus's shoulders.

Remus fingered the drying and caked cloth. "It's because," he began, not sure how to say it without scaring the other boys. "I... er… When I, um, change, I… I hurt myself. Not purposefully, but, 'cause I'm all locked up, I just… lose control. I'm not there… it's just the- the wolf. I scratch and bite myself," He struggled through the words, never having to explain his situation to anyone before and fearing the outcome of what he said.

Sirius touched his sleeve. "That's a lot of blood," he murmured. Remus looked at him just in time to watch him and James exchange a glance. He frowned, worried.

"I wish we could do something," James muttered, so quietly Remus almost didn't catch it.

_Do something? _Remus wondered. _What does he mean?_

….

Sorry this one was so short! I have a question: I'm probably going to be skipping to 5th year now (you'll find out why soon). Would you prefer to read more about the years in between or should I just go straight to it? Anyway, thanks for reading and reviewing!


	4. The One that Cried Wolf

05/31/2013

A/N: Hey guys! I've decided that I'm really going to focus on trying to improve my writing, using this story as my guinea pig. I could use any criticism you guys might have for me, so please review! Enjoy the story :).

_3 years later…_

Remus Lupin wearily watched the huge black dog in front of him shake out its shaggy coat, unleashing a cloud of hair that floated like a shroud of mist to the floor of the shrieking shack.

"Look, Sirius, I just don't think that this is a good idea…" he huffed, ignoring the mischievous glint in his friend's eye that suggested he didn't care in the least about what Remus thought might be a 'good idea'.

"It's dangerous." The dog thumped its tail against the rotting floor. "You could be killed!" More thumping. Frustrated and overwhelmed, Remus dug his fingers into his pale hair and leaned against a creaky wall, wishing he could apparate, disappear, be _anywhere_ other than where he was. He peeked up at his friend through the cover of his hands, just in time to catch the end of the wicked glint of teeth that Sirius was flashing him.

Remus raised an eyebrow. "Is that supposed to be a smile?" He asked, squinting at his hairy companion through the darkness of the room. The floor squeaked in protest as Sirius whined in response and padded towards him, plopping himself a foot away from the werewolf's hunched body. "I know," Remus huffed, sinking to the floor and wrapping his thin arms around his legs. "I know. This is your choice. But, I- I just…" He stuttered to a stop, finding himself unable to continue. He couldn't imagine losing his friends, the only ones that understood how he felt, the only people outside of his family that knew about his horrible, violent condition and didn't fear or hate him for it. And if he was the reason that that bond was severed, or they were killed… he couldn't bare to even think about it.

A wet nose pressed up against his neck, leaving a slimy trail of mucus and saliva when it drew away. Remus attempted at a smile, reaching up to scratch one of Sirius's soft ears. "Yeah, Pads, I know." He didn't need to hear the words, he knew what his friend was trying to tell him. The marauders were there for each other, they were family, even if one of them had a condition that caused him to become an animal and man-eater once a month. It had always been that way, from the beginning.

Sirius's ears pricked and his head cocked, alerting Remus to the approach of the rest of their motley little group.

After a few seconds, James popped his head into the entrance to the shrieking shack, an eager grin splitting his face. "'Ello, Remus, dear, how are we feeling today?" he said, chipper as ever, knowing that his jokes could always pull a smile from his sandy haired friend, no matter what mood or condition he was in. The bespectacled boy strode confidently into the dark room, giving Sirius an affectionate pat on the head (and earning himself an annoyed growl) and sitting down by Remus against the wall. Peter scrambled in after him, his light hair bobbing in time with his short steps before he squatted, breathing in short pants, next to Sirius's shaggy form.

Finally all together, the four figures sat, still as statues, letting the silence envelope them as they waited for something to happen.

After a long minute, however, Peter found he could wait no longer. "So, now what?" he chirped, bouncing nervously on his toes. The question floated obtrusively in the air around them.  
>Remus cautiously eyed his companions, feeling as though fizzing whizbees were whirring around in his stomach. "Well, normally I would transform, I suppose," he said, trying to imagine how that would work out. It was a bloody train of thought.<p>

James ran a hand through his messy hair. The boys had done so much research for that night, but actually experiencing it was a lot messier than he had expected. What if something went wrong? _No, it couldn't_. They'd had three years to perfect that night's actions, three years to study up on everything they needed to know. They could do it.

"You don't transform at will, right? It just comes over you?" he asked.

Remus nodded, glancing at the small window near the roof of the shack and pushing himself deeper into the shadows of the wall. It wouldn't be long now.

"Well," James continued, and nodded to Sirius and Peter, "Why don't we leave while you do that, then we'll meet up in our animagus forms once you've finished?" He stiffly rose to his feet, brushing dust and debris of his pants as he straightened.

The boys and dog nodded their agreement, Remus rather reluctantly. "Are you sure you want to do this?" He asked, and looked at them one by one, trying to assess each of their reactions. Other than Peter's hands quivering slightly, he couldn't find any sort of hesitance in their behavior, although he scoured them over as best as he could in the poor visibility of the room. If anything, they looked more confident than ever – Sirius's tongue lolled out of his wide mouth in a casual wolfish grin, James had only mussed with hair once since entering the room, and Peter, well, Peter did look rather pale… Or was that just the lighting?

"Fine." Feeling as though he'd lost some invisible battle, Remus stood, solemnly resigning himself to whatever fate the future held in store for him. James, sensing his unease, put a warm hand on his shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze.

"Moony. Remus. Everything will be fine," he said, smiling, and left the room, Sirius and Peter following him.

Remus stared after them, alone in the darkness, and waited for the first snap of bone that would begin his transformation.

_Thanks for reading! Hope you all enjoyed. I'll try to get the next chapter out as soon as I can, probably within the week (although a little motivation might help!). _


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